This is What They Called
by Kei Luna Shoryu
Summary: They called it survivors guilt. They were wrong. He wasn't depressed or feeling guilty. He was angry. Any pairings are up for interpretation including Widowhawk, Frosthawk, Thorki, Clint x Coulson, and Hulkeye.


This is What They Called

**KLS: **A new tiny thing I wrote because my high school dance Stony AU hates me and I guess when Steve decides he's being difficult my mind moves on to sad!Clint… I don't even know.

I like the concept for this though, even if I'm not sure I managed to capture everything I wanted to. Was originally meant to be a frosthawk pairing, and it still, IMO, turned out that way…just a bit more subtle than what I usually do.

Also, someday, I may make this into a legitimate thing with established pairings and not just roam around Sad!Clint's head.

**Title: They Called It**

**Summary**: They called it survivors guilt. They were wrong. He wasn't depressed or feeling guilty. He was angry.

**Character**: Clint. Natasha, Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, and Bruce Banner are all mentioned alongside Loki. Selvig is also mentioned. And Thor. Hmm…

**Pairing**: Frosthawk? (maybe one-sided, possible denial), perhaps some ClintxCoulson as well, maybe some Thorki, and one line that could hint at Hulkeye if the story had a conclusive ending…I think. Maybe that's just me. Then again, I'm not entirely sure this story has a pairing in a romantic sense at all…

**Warnings**: Uhm…resigned Clint? I guess? Mentions of survivor guilt and Stockholm syndrome…light detailing of psychological issues, and this is waaay too many warnings for this. Short, may leave readers unsatisfied.

They called it survivor guilt. There were other things there too, but the easiest one was survivor guilt. Because that wasn't…easy, not to fix, not to view, but it was common. Common problems had common solutions, more often than not, and Clint couldn't afford to just sit back when the world had a chance to go to Hell every other Tuesday, and a better chance of gaining a new dictator every Wednesday. Thursdays were intergalactic crises days. Clint was finding other dimensions to be a more or less common Monday theme as well, it alternated with Hell Tuesday. He preferred the dimension problem, because on Mondays that he wasn't in the field he was stuck being told about all of his problems.

They were wrong, though. Survivor guilt wasn't the problem. People died, others didn't. There wasn't a hell lot he could accomplish by sitting on his ass moping about it. Crying 'Why Me' had never gotten him anything better than bruises. Crying 'Why Not Me,' in his line of work, would only invite something much worse. And then he wouldn't be the only one in danger. Besides, pity parties usually made him more nauseous than validated.

He wasn't depressed or feeling guilty.

He was angry.

He was so angry, and it burned from within at an intensity that terrified him. So maybe he seemed despondent, maybe he didn't go out of his way to communicate, but there was something alive and scorching him from within. And he feared what it would do.

He'd never been one for empathy, but he thinks maybe he understands Dr. Banner a little better than others.

Because eventually, even Clint knew he'd break and that scorching heat would burn bright and hot; it would burn everyone nearby. All he could do was distance himself, and when everything was done, deal with the aftermath. Coulson had always been good at damage control. Clint wondered if it fit; that his disappearance heralded the biggest shit storm Clint could ever hope to directly cause.

They said the cause was obvious. Loki had taken control from him, wrested the things they held dear. And why shouldn't Clint conform to that? Believe that freedom, will, those were things that people needed to be happy and safe. Clint knew they didn't get it. Freedom was a luxury Clint really didn't know how to approach. It was always the first thing he'd ever been willing to sacrifice. Why the hell else would he have gone over to SHIELD?

He refused to dwell on the source of his anger.

Hill had expected him to punch the one that called it Stockholm syndrome.

Natasha actually had, the lovable bitch.

He'd laughed. He didn't have the energy for hysterics, as that went to containing his anger, but he had laughed. He knew what Stockholm syndrome was, enough to know he didn't have it. The important defining aspect was missing, something about victims justifying and defending the actions of their captor. No, Loki knew exactly what he was doing. Clint had no misplaced sympathy for the man's atrocities. Thor might, but to Clint's knowledge, the thunder god had never actually been held captive by his little brother and that was kind of a defining aspect too. So maybe it was family loyalty.

Clint wished he could remember what that felt like.

He pretended he didn't feel the sharp jab of anger in his chest that called him a liar.

He remembered all too well.

Loki made sure of that.

Freedom was the first thing Clint was willing to sacrifice. Selvig had been taken against his will. That was what they told him. He didn't know any better than to agree. Clint knew, though.

It was a trade.

Selvig had gotten knowledge and power, and given his freedom. Clint…didn't like to dwell on it. Because his life was on repeat and he was starting to get really sick and tired of seeing the same damn show. He even had all the lines memorized.

He hated it; freedom for belonging, because Loki had known exactly what he needed. Or maybe he hadn't, but if that was the case than they were even more alike than Clint wanted to contemplate. And that made it worse. Because that meant that Loki knew, on a personal level and not just as an observer, exactly what the hell belonging to something meant.

And then he was gone. He'd taken Coulson. And Clint was alone again.

So maybe he had abandonment issues. And maybe he was a little bit removed. And maybe he was a little bit less tolerant whenever anyone started spouting off Avengers shit. But he was getting real sick and tired of people telling him why. And he was starting to get annoyed whenever someone told him to stop, too.

All he was trying to do was live and protect people from himself.

Coulson would have been proud.

He ignored the sting in his eye and the tenseness in his throat as he lifted his bow.

Because those were the things that called him a liar.


End file.
